


Duck Soup

by mrv3000



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Ducks, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-13
Updated: 2005-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrv3000/pseuds/mrv3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack vs. Duck</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duck Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [For Karen for the S/J Ficathon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=For+Karen+for+the+S%2FJ+Ficathon).



> Thanks to Julie for betaing!

"What the hell?"

After years of witnessing whatever kind of weirdness the universe thought to hurl at him, including that freaky eight-legged, green sheep thing on P-whatever whatever, for the first time in quite a while Jack was actually taken by surprise. He stared down a corridor on Level 27, deciding that this was very appropriate for his day.

Jack's morning had gotten off to a thrilling start. For one thing he had gotten some grease on his jeans when getting into his truck that morning.  Of course, it wasn't until he was half-way to the base that he discovered this.  Rubbing at the dark streak only made it worse.

And then he had picked up an old ID card which he could have _sworn_ he had shredded when it became inactive. The no-way-he's-eighteen airman at the gate didn't buy the whole mystery shredding thing and so Jack had spent twenty minutes trying to get it straightened out. After it was finally confirmed that Jack, despite his faded "Coors: Taste the Rockies" t-shirt (hey, it was the only thing in his hamper that didn't smell...much), was in fact a one-star general that belonged at the base, he rewarded the diligent young soldier with a pat on the back and an order to wash his truck by 1800 hours.

To top it all off, the base laundry flooded the night before and so he had his choice of wearing his normal working blues but with the fun of blue pants and a green shirt, or his dress blues.

Mis-matched it was then. It seemed only natural that in this state he would come face-to-face with a duck.

Only it wasn't natural - a little grey alien would have been natural. This was a duck. A brown, ordinary-looking duck. And it was staring at him.

Jack nodded at it. "Laundry was busted."

It quacked.

Fast-approaching footsteps skidded to a halt behind him and a hand touched his arm.

"Oh thank God," Carter said, slightly out-of-breath.

"New pet? Let me guess. His name is Quackers."

The duck stared at him.

"Donald?"

"No. It has Daniel's flash drive." She held her hand out in front of her - the universal don't-freak-out-at-me gesture – and slowly moved towards the creature.

"Want me to rough him up a bit?" Jack offered.

"What?"

"Oh, just using humor to deflect a growing urge to kick whoever's ass it was that missed a duck wandering onto the base..."

She stopped and turned back to him with what he swore was a slight, but guilty wince. "Sir?"

"Carter?"

"It's not an Earth duck."

Jack's eyes were back on the duck. "I'm not going to want to hear this, am I?"

Carter took a deep breath. "Daniel was finishing up his survey mission with SG-7 on P2X-982, which happened to be in a wooded area, Daniel says you would love it by the way..."

Jack's eyes narrowed.

She quickly continued. "...when a flock of particularly aggressive ducks started chasing him around the camp."

Okay, maybe he did want to hear this.  Jack smirked. "Tell me SG-7 got video."

She gave him a small laugh. "Already checked."

"And?"

"No good. Daniel got to them first."

"Damn."

"Anyway, one of the ducks decided to make a meal out of his flash drive that had all the pictures from the mission on it. So since he didn't feel like waiting around for, um, nature to run its course, he brought it back with him."

"Just..." Jack sighed and stared at the duck, which turned, its head bobbing slightly, and wiggled its butt in their direction. "...ducky," he finished.

"Yes, sir."

"Carter?"

"Sir?"

"Tell me I approved an alien life form to be brought onto this base. Tell me that, because I obviously, oh I don't know, have a case of temporary amnesia where I have no memory of saying, 'Okay Daniel, bring Daffy on back and to hell with base procedure because I never really cared for it much anyway.' And then I'm sure, still in the part I can't remember, that I welcomed Daniel and his digesting duck with open arms and a bottle of laxatives."

Carter looked as if she wanted to say something but was biting her tongue, so he went on.  "I know amnesia isn't out of the question but the thing is I feel fine. No mysterious bumps on the head. I remember my bicycle lock combination and what I had for dinner last night. The first girl I had a crush on was Cathy Prescott."

The left corner of her mouth tugged upwards.  Jack shoved his hands under the green shirt and into blue pockets. "Okay, I'm done."

The quirk of Carter's lips turned into a knowing smile. "Daniel probably would have brought it back even if you had been here, sir."

"I'm sure. So why, pray tell, isn't Daniel duck-sitting until it can do its...thing?"

"Well, it bit him when he started to sing to it, and _please_ sir, don't ask, and then it flew out of his lab."

"Dammit, I miss all the best stuff now."

"Every time security spots it on the cameras, it's gone by the time someone gets there. I think Daniel's running around Level 20 right now." She started towards the duck again.

"Okay, when's it going to breathe fire?"

"Fire? It's just a duck, sir."

"Oh no no no," he said, waving a hand. "It's an _alien_ duck which means there will be either something horribly wrong with it, like poison darts will shoot out of its ears..."

Jack heard a snicker. He was _pretty_ sure it had been Carter.

"...or it will have some weird-ass duck disease that will make everyone de-evolve or something."

"Been there. Done that." Carter continued to creep forward, Jack now following close behind.

He grinned. "Ah, good times."

She turned her head and frowned at him. "Oh yeah. That was a laugh-riot."

"Well, I seem to remember..."

Then it happened. The badness Jack _knew_ would happen, happened. What was once a somewhat entertaining picture of Carter stalking a duck went horribly, horribly wrong.

A very distinct noise came from the area of the duck.

Carter stopped. "Was that...?"

"Oh God." Jack prepared to run like hell, but it was too late. The smell caught up with the sound. He waved a hand in front of his face as Carter, scrambling backwards, bumped into him and coughed into her shirt sleeve.  "Okay, Daniel is on his own," he choked out.

He saw the conflict on Carter's face - it wavered between revulsion and determination. "Sir, we almost have it."

"Screw it. Let Daniel get near that gasbag."

Revulsion was clearly losing as the smell dissipated, and she started to pantomime with her hands. "If we both kind of herd it..."

"Carter, I love you, but there's no way I'm getting near a farting duck."

Jack swore time actually stopped - eternity would be spent with Carter (good), a gassy duck (bad) and those words hanging in the air (shit.)

Carter stared at him. It was probably the first time in history anyone had willed a duck to fart.

Now would be good.

The duck quacked.

So close, and yet not enough to distract Carter. Damn duck.

"And by that I mean..."

She shifted onto one foot. "Oh, of course, sir. I know..."

Jack shifted feet as well. "In the sense that I love all living creatures..."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"...including the duck."

"Naturally."

"And you're seeing someone."

"This is true."

"So we're clear?"

"You love ducks."

"Exactly."

Yep, this day was just _perfect._

Jack felt a tug on his pant leg. "It's trying to eat my pants, isn't it?"

"Uh..." Carter looked down. "Yes, sir."

"Of course it is." Jack reached down and scooped up the duck, which flapped its wings violently at the indignity of being picked up.  It then proceeded to attack his shirt.

Carter attempted not to smile, but failed. "Maybe it's offended by your fashion statement."

"Oh ha ha."

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Want me to take it?"

"Oh no. I love the duck." Jack patted it with his free hand. "I'll take it up to Daniel. I'm sure you've got more important things to do with your life. Me? I've just got the thrill of paperwork waiting for me."

"Are you sure?"

"I owe him an ass-kicking anyway."

That earned him a low chuckle. "Thanks, sir," she said, then looked at him strangely. "Uh, sir?"

"Carter?"

"You've got a feather on your face." She reached up and plucked it off.  "And some...some grease?"  She was now rubbing his face with her hand.

Jack cleared his throat.

Carter stopped and blinked.  "Well, you can probably clean yourself, right?" Her hands flew behind her back. "Yeah, I'm going to go now," she said as she bolted and quickly disappeared around a corner.

The duck quacked at him from under his arm.

"Oh, shut up."


End file.
